


The Line Between Love And Hate Is Thin

by charlesdk



Series: Tumblr Fics [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cruise Ship, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Baker Stiles Stilinski, Chef Derek, Food Fight, M/M, POV Derek, Tumblr Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6437914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesdk/pseuds/charlesdk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's only after the ship has sailed that Derek finds out he has to share a kitchen with the man he claims to hate. For 3 months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Line Between Love And Hate Is Thin

The kitchen was small, cramped, and Derek already missed his own kitchen back in town. His kitchen was at least big enough to fit a whole crew of people - they were four, it counted as a crew - while this kitchen was barely big enough for himself, let alone a whole other person.

As he bend down to open up the cardboard box of pots and pans he had brought along - because there was no way he was going to use someone else’s - he kind of hated Erica a little bit.

Hated her for convincing him to agree to do this dumb job on a dumb cruise. He didn’t even like the ocean, why was he there? Oh right, “because it’s great promotion for your restaurant and you need to get out more, Derek,” as Erica had said while she emptied his closet into a suitcase.

She didn’t have to make breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, and various other small meals for a whole cruise full of hungry people for three months straight. She just had to bring it out to them, that was easy. Derek had to make all of it, all the while sharing his kitchen space with some baker the cruise had hired.

Derek was putting a pan into one of the cabinets in the far end of the kitchen, when the door behind him got pushed open, and someone walked inside.

“Oh wow!” whoever had entered exclaimed, and… Derek knew that voice.

”This place is small as shit!” There was a heavy thud as the door closed, and Derek slowly turned around to face his kitchen partner.

Stiles Stilinski was smiling widely, his brown eyes wandering around the kitchen, taking it all in. But the second his eyes landed on Derek, Derek with his brows low and a hard look on his face, the smile faded and his jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Stiles owned a bakery just down the street from Derek’s restaurant, and they had been in a rivalry ever since Derek grabbed the last pack of eggs at the grocery store just as Stiles reached out for it several months ago. To say they hated each other would be an understatement. Stiles didn’t just piss Derek off, he infuriated him to the point where Derek had once broken one of their trays in frustration. All thanks to Stiles and his horrible idea of a joke.

Stiles had thought it was funny to replace Derek’s plane, black apron with an apron that had a naked torso on the front and pixels around the crotch. Derek hadn’t found it funny at all, especially not since he had to go out and buy a new one, because Stiles refused to give the other back.

Their rivalry had been going on for months, and Derek hated Stiles to no end, the feelings strongly returned from Stiles.

And now they had to share a kitchen.

A cramped kitchen.

On a cruise ship. A cruise ship that had left the port several minutes ago.

And they had to be there for three months.

This was not going to end well. For either of them.

Stiles made a noise of annoyance,a loud and long groan, and he turned around to storm back out the way he came. “There’s no fucking way I’m gonna share a kitchen with you, asshole.”

“What are you gonna do?” Derek asked, crossing his arms. “Ask the captain to turn around? Because she’s not going to do that, idiot.”

Stiles paused with a hand on the door, paused and turned around to return the glare Derek send him. “Do you _want_ to share a kitchen with me? For three months? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t want to share anything with you for even a second!”

Derek dramatically rolled his eyes, groaning. “And I don’t want to share anything with you either, I’m just being logical. The captain isn’t gonna turn this ship around just because we don’t get along, so we just have to make this work,” he said through gritted teeth. He hated his own idea. “Somehow.”

Stiles stared at him, obviously not pleased with the idea either, but he scoffed and stepped back into the cramped kitchen. “Fine.” He looked around a moment, before he grabbed a pack of food wrapping paper and slammed it down the middle of the counter he stood at. “You stay on your side,” he pointed over at Derek, then to himself, “and I stay on mine.”

Derek raised his brows and huffed. “You sound like a five year old.”

Stiles repeated him back in a high pitched and mocking tone, making a face at Derek. He groaned, his cheeks flush, when he realized he just proved Derek right. “Shut up, asshole.” He turned around and headed for the door. “I’m gonna go explore the ship, ‘cause you’re here so I don’t want to be.”

And then he left. Left Derek to curse Erica for dragging him onto this cruise.

*

As soon as he was done unpacking in the kitchen, Derek headed straight for Erica’s cabin, a grumpy frown stuck on his face. He ignored the cruise goers - families mostly, he noted, but a few young couples - and stormed down the ship until he reached the staff’s cabins.

Erica shared a cabin with Boyd, Isaac sharing with Derek, and he only had to knock- pound was a more accurate word for what he did. He only had to pound once or twice on the door, before it was swung open and revealed a smiling Erica.

“Hi Derek, how’s the kitchen?” She quickly stepped to the side, when Derek huffed at her and stepped inside. She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and closed the door after him. “What’s gotten you in such a shit mood?”

Derek shot Boyd and Isaac on the bed a quick glance, before he turned to look at Erica, brows heavy over his eyes and his lips tightly shut. “Guess who I’m sharing the tiny kitchen with? Stiles.”

Erica bit her bottom lip, failing in trying to bite back the grin that formed on her lips, and the two behind Derek snorted. He turned to shoot the both of them a glare, before he turned back to the grinning Erica. “Did you know about that when you dragged me on here?”

Erica lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I may have known it a little bit, yeah.”

Derek’s nostrils flared as he exhaled deeply, his jaw clenching. “Erica, you know I hate his guts. Why the hell did you think it’d be a good idea to _force_ me to work in a cramped kitchen with him? For three months!”

“Oh please, Der.” Erica rolled her eyes, lifting her arms to cross them. “You only say you hate him because you’re too much of a child to admit you actually really want to bone him.” There was a choked laugh from the bed. “I know you, Derek, and I know Stiles is exactly your type, and it’s about time you stop denying it.”

Derek huffed and stepped forward, eyes locked with Erica’s. “And this was your genius plan to what? Get us together? Erica, I don’t like him!”

“At least you get paid for these three months,” Isaac jumped in, getting up from the bed. He stepped up behind Derek, put a hand on his shoulder, and lightly pushed him forward. “Come on, we should go unpack.”

Derek resisted for a second, then huffed and let himself get pushed back out of the small cabin. “If I end up killing him in the kitchen, you’re gonna have to pay for my lawyer,” he told Erica as he opened the door.

Erica snorted, a laugh escaping her. “And when you finally get together, I’ll be maid of honor at the wedding.”

*

Derek and Isaac had only been unpacking for about thirty minutes, when Erica opened the door and stepped in, a guilty look on her face. Boyd was behind her, arms crossed, and he gave her an encouraging nod when she looked back at him.

With a sigh, Erica turned to Derek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Stiles being here,” she told him, taking a hesitant step closer. “While I do know you like him, and don’t deny it!” She held up a warning finger when Derek opened his mouth, so he stayed quiet. “It was wrong of me for not saying anything, and I’m sorry.”

She lowered her hand slowly, her shoulders slumping. “But you do need this. It’s good promotion for the restaurant, and it’s a chance to see parts of the world. I know you’ve always wanted to do that.” She paused for a moment. “I’ll be an extra good waitress and help you get back at Stiles anytime you want. You’re my best friend, and I only want the best for you, Derek.”

Derek stood and looked at her quietly for what felt like close to a minute but was really no more than ten seconds, before he stepped over and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. A tight hug that was immediately returned.

“It’s okay,” he told her as he pulled back, offering her a quick smile. “But I will take you up on that offer. The guy’s a pain in my ass.”

Isaac snorted, and Erica whined, her brows furrowing and teeth digging into her bottom lip. “You’re not making this easy at all, Derek.”

Derek rolled his eyes and shoved lightly at her. “Go back to your cabin.”

Erica left with Boyd, and Derek and Isaac finished unpacking. The cabin wasn’t big, wasn’t anything special. There were two beds, a closet only barely big enough for both of their clothes, and a small bathroom with a shower and a toilet. It was a bit cramped, but neither of them were going to spend much time there anyway, so it didn’t matter.

The scheduled dinner was just a few hours away, when Derek found himself heading down the side of the ship toward the cramped kitchen. Part of him hoped Stiles wouldn’t be there, but he knew he probably would be. Desert was part of the menu after all, and desert was Stiles’ job.

Derek pushed the door and didn’t find Stiles elbow deep in making the desert. No, he found him on the floor.

Putting duct tap down the middle of the floor.

Derek rolled his eyes and headed inside, stepping around Stiles taping the floor. “You’re an actual child,” he said as he threw his apron over his head and tied it around his back.

“Yeah well.” Stiles patted down the duct tape by the wall and pulled himself up to stand with a sigh, dusting off his knees. “I can’t exactly put up a fence, and duct tape fixes everything.” He held the roll of duct tape up, waving it in his hands, a tight smile on his lips. “And now you know where the line is, so stay on your side, asshole.”

“Only if you stay on yours,” Derek threw back, his back turned to Stiles.

He rolled up his sleeves and began to prepare the dinner, ignoring the insults Stiles threw at him.

For about a minute, before he threw them right back at him.

*

To say the first week working on the cruise was hell would be an understatement. Making that much food for that many people (and the staff as well) wasn’t that bad, he actually liked that, because he liked cooking.

No, that was fine. What was hell, however, was working in the same kitchen as Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles was… horrible, to put it nicely. Every morning before the sun was up, Derek would come into the kitchen to find Stiles preparing the bread for breakfast. It would always smell good, and Derek kind of hated that.

He also hated that Stiles apparently never bothered looking presentable, his hair still messy from sleep. He hated how Stiles’ biceps would flex when he kneaded the dough.

Not that he was looking.

Because he wasn’t.

But what he hated the most was the constant bickering going on between them. Right from the moment Derek stepped into the kitchen and to the moment Stiles left for the day, throwing one last insult at him.

Every single day.

It had only been a week, and Derek had gone to bed grumpy and annoyed every night. It had only been one week, and Derek was already more than tired of sharing his kitchen with someone as annoying as Stiles Stilinski.

On the eighth day, Derek woke up to Isaac’s annoying alarm. With a groan, he got up, threw his pillow at the still sleeping and snoring Isaac, and headed for the bathroom.

The sun wasn’t even up yet, he noticed as he brushed his teeth, eyelids still heavy. The sun wasn’t up, the entire cruise ship was sound asleep, and Derek was getting up to make them all breakfast.

At least no one really complained as long as there was a lot of bacon, eggs, and a vegetarian special.

He nodded groggily at one of the other staff members - Kira. She was nice and worked as a life guard with Boyd. She was an early bird. Willingly. She didn’t need to be up for another few hours, but she was always up and smiling widely at him every single morning - he passed on the way down the ship.

“Good morning, Derek!” she said, lifting a hand while the smile grew.

“Morning,” Derek greeted back, offering her a quick nod. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a few hours.”

“Awesome.” They passed each other, and Kira smiled brightly at him when he returned her smile with a quick one of his own. “Say hi to Stiles from me!”

Derek responded with a grunt, a grunt Kira couldn’t hear now that she had continued in the opposite direction. Kira was one of Stiles’ friends - apparently she was dating his best friend - and they saw each other all the time on the cruise, so Derek had never passed on the greeting.

That would mean willingly talking to Stiles after all.

He reached the kitchen and with a heavy and tired sigh, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. His eyes swept over to the right where Stiles was standing, elbow deep in baking a batch of the bread for breakfast, one already in the oven. Flour covered Stiles’ shirt despite him wearing an apron, and flour made parts of his hair white, as well as his jeans, face, and various other parts of him.

Stiles was covered in flour, and Derek tried to push the thought of how adorable that was away.

Tried and succeeded.

Because instead of gaping at him, Derek let out a long and loud snort as he stepped inside, the door falling closed behind him. “Did you get in a fight with the flour?”

Stiles let out a huff followed by a dry laugh. “So I might have dropped the bag of flour a little bit, that’s not my fault.”

“No, of course not.” Derek grabbed his apron and put it on, tying it around his back. “That’s just you being an idiot with no control over your limbs.”

He heard the sigh of annoyance, heard the shuffle of feet against the floor, and he felt the handful of flour hitting his back, creating a cloud behind him, and settling on his entire back, ass, and back of his head.

Fuming, he whipped around and found a grinning Stiles seconds from bursting out into laughter. Derek let a low rumble similar to a growl slip out, and that was apparently all it took for Stiles to lose it.

He bend forward a little, his arms wrapping around his stomach, his mouth hanging open, and his eyes narrow as he let out a loud laughter that filled the kitchen, could probably be heard on the deck as well. “Oh my God!” he managed to get out in between laughs. “Your face- You look- You look ridiculous!”

Stiles was too busy laughing, wiping under his teary eyes, to notice Derek grabbing an egg and tossing it in his direction, hitting him right on his left shoulder.

The laughter very quickly died out, and Stiles turned his head to look down at his egg filled shoulder, his mouth still open but now gaping. “You did not just do it,” he said as he looked back at Derek, eyes fiery.

Stiles reached behind him, grabbed the nearest thing he could reach (butter, lid closed) and threw it at Derek, Derek stepping to the side and avoiding it. The butter hit the wall and fell down on the counter with a heavy thud.

It was ridiculous, really. They were two grown men with professional jobs, and they were having a food fight on a cruise ship. During sunrise.

And the food fight didn’t stop until Erica stepped into the kitchen and yelled at them to get back to work, smacking both their heads.

The rest of the morning was spend in a tense silence with the occasional insult thrown at each other, neither daring to start anything else because Erica would know immediately.

*

The food fights didn’t end there. No, that was just the beginning.

The food fights continued because they may have split the kitchen and made themselves at home on their own side, but someone’s stuff would always end up on a side that wasn’t theirs.

First it was Derek’s eggs ending up in Stiles’ cakes. Derek knew they were his eggs, because he knew the pack they had been in, and that pack was sitting empty on one of Stiles’ counters.

Derek got revenge the next day, when he stole Stiles’ red handled whisk and used it openly with a tight grin on his lips when Stiles walked into the kitchen that morning.

That had started the second of many food fights taking place in the cramped kitchen on a cruise ship full of families and couples having a blast.

The next three weeks were spend with various food products being wasted thrown across the kitchen, thrown at each other, and various kitchen utensils breaking in some way. And every food fight was accompanied by a lot of yelling and occasionally laughter.

Three weeks of food fights passed, before the captain sat them down and told them to quit it or it would be taken out of their paycheck.

So they stopped throwing food at each other and stuck to throwing insults.

It was slightly less fun, Derek had to admit, but at least he didn’t have to spend a long time in the shower to get rid of all the food pieces in his hair, and then step out to have Isaac tease him about the length of his shower.

He had only jerked off a few times while showering, and Isaac had just happened to hear him once.

It had started a never ending teasing from not only Isaac but Erica as well. Sometimes even Boyd but he was at least subtle about it. Derek’s friends were assholes.

Erica was especially one for making him share a kitchen with Stiles for three months straight.

At least there were only two months left, and then he would be free from the horror.

*

“Guess what the cruise offers tonight?” Erica asked as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter, right next to where Derek was busy making lunch for everyone.

“Erica, you’re in the way,” Derek said, nudging at her to move. She didn’t move more than a few inches, then settled back down.

“What does the cruise offer?” Stiles asked, kicking the oven closed while wiping his hands off.

“A party for people over 21, staff included.” Erica looked from Stiles back to Derek. “And we’re going.”

Derek grunted, keeping his attention on what he was mixing together. “I don’t like parties.”

“What a surprise,” came Stiles’ dry and mumbling response, and Derek shot him a warning glare.

Erica sighed at the two and swatted at Derek’s shoulder. “Well, you’re going anyway. You need to let loose a little, Der. You don’t have enough fun, and you’ve been working nonstop for a whole month. Time for some fun, so you’re going.” She looked over at Stiles and smiled. “And so are you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to drag me to a party, dude. I’ll go 100% willingly.”

“Great. So we’re all going.”

That was how Derek found himself in the big hall on the cruise ship, leaning against the bar counter with a drink in his hand and watching the people on the floor dance along to the song playing loudly, a few girls’ excited and happy laughs could be heard every once in a while.

Derek didn’t particularly like parties. Too many people, not enough he knew. He only knew Boyd, Erica, and Isaac. Stiles and Kira didn’t count. Boyd and Erica had disappeared into the sea of people to dance, Isaac had downed his drink and headed over to hit on a brunette with dimples on the other side of the bar, leaving Derek to stand alone with his drink.

He didn’t like parties. Drinking, however, he did like, so as he finished the drink in his hand, he ordered another from the guy behind the bar. Danny was his name, according to the name tag stuck to his shirt.

“Who comes to a party to drink on their own?” Stiles leaned onto the counter next to Derek, sweat gleaming on his forehead and a light smile on his lips.

Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink from Danny. “Go away, Stiles. I didn’t come to a party to get annoyed by you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and ordered a drink. “Relax, I’m only here to get a drink, and then I’m gonna go far away from you, because I didn’t come here to hang out with you either.”

“Then why did you come over here?” Derek lifted his glass and took a swig, the alcohol burning pleasantly as he swallowed.

“Because Danny was over here and Danny’s my buddy.” Stiles smiled widely at Danny, to which Danny just rolled his eyes and pushed the finished drink over to him. “Anyway.” Stiles turned back to Derek, lifting the glass to his lips. “Do you not know how to party? Because usually you dance at a party, and you haven’t done that yet.”

Derek blinked, his brows slowly knitting together, and he looked from the dancing crowd where he had spotted Boyd’s head, to Stiles standing next to him. “Have you been watching me?”

Stiles was mid-sip and he choked on the liquid going into his mouth. “What?” he managed to get out after a few coughs, and he put his drink down, trying to catch his breath. “No, I have not been watching you.” Maybe it was the packed room, but Stiles’ cheeks were definitely turning red.

Derek raised a brow at him, gave him a look, and took a last swig of his drink, before he put it down. “If you plan on staying here, I’m leaving.”

He hated people. He hated that not one, not two, but three different people tried to grab him and make him dance with them as he pushed his way through the sea of people in a search for Erica and Boyd. He hated that people were bumping into him when he was just trying to get by.

And he hated that someone grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, that someone being Stiles.

“I bet you can’t even dance!” Stiles yelled over the music, leaning slightly into Derek’s space, a playful glint in his eyes.

Derek had been drinking, they both had, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a little bit drunk, he wouldn’t have stepped into Stiles’ space and started swaying his hips, wouldn’t have started to move to the beat of the music playing around them.

Stiles watched him for a moment, mouth handing slightly open, before he snapped his eyes up to Derek’s face and he snorted. “Those are terrible moves!” He moved in, started dancing along with Derek to the beat, his hips swaying in tact with Derek’s.

Derek vaguely noticed Boyd and Erica coming over to dance next to them a few minutes later, but his attention was on Stiles. Stiles with his moving hips, with his arms up high which made his shirt pull up to reveal a trail of dark hair. Stiles with his occasionally jumping, panting, and laughter. Stiles who was so close to Derek - the crowd had pushed both of them several times, and they were forced closer.

Derek was drunk, he reminded himself as he stepped forward, his hips nearly smacking against Stiles’ as they moved. He was drunk, he hated Stiles, but he couldn’t deny the attraction.

He watched as Stiles’ eyes flickered down to his lips for a brief second, watched as his hips slowed their movements now that they were close enough to feel each other breathing, panting from the dancing in the warm room. He watched as Stiles swallowed and started moving his hips again, Derek allowing his hips to fall in sync with them.

He didn’t know how long they danced together, how many times their crotches brushed against each other, how many times Stiles’ hands ran down Derek’s front or how many times Derek’s hands touched Stiles. He didn’t know, and he would hate himself for all of it the second he was out of there.

Not only because he knew he would remember it, but because he knew Boyd would remember too, Erica maybe, and they would both tell Isaac.

Derek wasn’t sure how long he danced with Stiles, but it took one long look at Stiles’ parted, red lips for him to snap back out of it and move away.

Move away meaning pushing Stiles off of him, turning around, and storming out of there, his face hot and his heart pounding in his chest.

*

Derek woke up the next morning to the sound of Isaac’s annoying alarm going off. He slammed his hand down to turn it off and sat up with a groan. His head was throbbing but not as badly as he had thought it would have. His hangovers had never been that bad, and he hadn’t gone to bed that late anyway, had downed a bottle of water the second he reached his and Isaac’s cabin.

He stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair, before he got up, his mouth open in a yawn. “Isaac, get up,” he said, throwing his pillow at Isaac’s sleeping figure.

Isaac groaned under his blanket and shifted slightly, but he made no movement of getting up.

And when Derek came back out of the bathroom, Isaac had yet to move, the pillow still over his face, so Derek rolled his eyes and set another alarm. “Get up in ten minutes, or you won’t get breakfast.”

Isaac responded with a grumble muffled by the pillow, and Derek quickly got dressed before heading out onto the deck and toward the kitchen.

He walked by the pool and saw Kira already setting up and getting ready. She didn’t see him, probably didn’t hear him either, the waves too loud, so he moved on. When he reached the kitchen door he paused, a hand resting on it as he listened in. He could hear noise coming from inside, knew Stiles would be there.

Derek could remember everything from the night before. He could remember what it felt like to have Stiles practically grinding against him, could remember that Stiles had probably felt his half hard cock pressing against him at some point during the night.

And he could remember storming out of there when he had felt the urge to kiss the guy, had stormed out of there before he could make that mistake.

Inhaling, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Stiles looked up the moment he did, his eyes widening and his cheeks flushing. Derek gave him a quick look, saw the way his hair was still messy and the dark lines under his eyes, and he quickly turned away and went over to his side.

They worked in silence, an awkward and tense silence. A silence that was interrupted several minutes later, when an egg splattered on the wall in front of Derek.

Derek jumped only a little bit, and he whipped around to find Stiles grinning at him. “You’re not supposed to throw food anymore, idiot.”

Stiles lifted his shoulders in a shrug, the grin wide on his face. “The egg slipped out of my hand, oops.”

Derek narrowed his eyes at him and grabbed the already empty carton on his counter. He returned the grin when Stiles’ eyes went wide, and he threw it just as Stiles ducked out of the way.

After that, the awkward and tense silence was gone and filled with the usual bickering.

*

“How’s Erica doing?” Derek asked as he sat himself down next to Boyd by the almost empty pool. Only a few couples had decided to skip lunch to swim around, a couple of kids splashing water at each other at the kids pool where Kira was seated.

Two months had gone by on the cruise. There had been a few times when the ship laid anchor by a port that Derek, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica got to walk around a new town and explore a little, buying some souvenirs for the people at home.

For example, Derek had promised to buy Laura something nice at every stop they made, and he had promised Cora to get her something as well. At this point, he had several decorative things for Laura and several small wolf figures for Cora. Wolves always were Cora’s favorite.

During their most recent trip onto land, they had to cut it short because Erica had started feeling sick not long after setting foot into town. Ever since then, she had been stuck in bed and Boyd had run back and forth from their room and the pool.

“She’s sleeping,” Boyd responded, taking the plate of food Derek handed to him. “Still got a fever but she’s getting better.”

Derek nodded. “Think she wants some food? I can make her something light.”

Boyd shrugged, swallowing the bite he had taken. “I doubt she’ll wanna eat it, but I’d like to try, thanks.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they ate their lunch, and they were about halfway through when Boyd broke that comfortable silence. “Have you told Stiles yet?”

“Told him that I hate him?” Derek nodded, biting down into the bread in his hand. The bread that Stiles had made. And it was ridiculously good. “Yeah, every day.”

“No, told him that you like him.”

Derek turned to Boyd and gave him a look, a brow raised. “Boyd, I don’t like him.”

“Except you do.”

Derek groaned and rolled his eyes. “I don’t like him. He’s annoying and loud. Why would I like him?”

“Because he’s exactly your type.” Boyd took a swig off water from his bottle, then continued after he swallowed. “The only reason you think you hate him is because he stole your apron and replaced it with a stupid one. You’re too stubborn to admit you like him, which is ridiculous.”

Derek opened his mouth to deny all of it - even though all of it was true - but then Boyd put his plate on top of Derek’s, patted his shoulder, and got up. “Back to work.”

There was another pat, and then Boyd left. Derek sat there for several minutes just letting his mind run, until he got frustrated.

Frustrated because Boyd was right, and yet Derek was still too stubborn to even admit anything to himself.

*

“Stop eating the food,” Derek said, swatting away Erica’s hang. “It’s not for you.”

Erica made a face at him and quickly snatched a piece anyway, smiling sweetly at him when he glared. “I’m just tanking up. Waitressing is a challenging job, Der.”

“So is being a chef, especially when your waitress keeps stealing my food,” Derek grumbled, cutting up chicken. “Aren’t you supposed to take it easy anyway? You’re only just recovering from being sick.”

Erica shrugged, crossing her leg over the other. “I was stuck in bed for a week. I can’t afford to stay there any longer.” She stuffed her mouth and rolled her eyes. “Although Boyd tried to make me stay in bed. While it’s sweet of him, I got really bored being there all alone with no way of entertaining myself.”

Derek put down his knife, wiped his hands off, and stepped over to put the back of his hand against Erica’s forehead. “You’re still warm,” he said, his brows furrowed in worry. “If you feel too sick, tell me and I’ll ask Kira to help. Pool’s closed anyway.”

Erica smiled softly and patted his bearded cheek. “You’re sweet but I’m fine, really.” She paused for a moment, then her smile slowly faded away. “Speaking of Kira… guess what she told me the other day?”

“What’d she tell you?” Derek went back to slicing up the chicken, cutting it into small pieces he put onto the plate next to the cutting board.

“She told me why Stiles is working on this cruise.” Erica grabbed a piece of cooking chicken on the pan on the stove a bit from her. “Apparently his dad was in the hospital for a while, so now they’re drowning in medical bills. His dad can’t work anymore, so Stiles has been working extra jobs wherever he can to pay those bills.”

Derek had stopped cutting, his heart dropping as he listened to Erica. “Kira took the job on this cruise with him to help him raise the last bit of money, while her boyfriend, Stiles’ best friend, works extra shifts at the hospital he works at. Apparently they’ll be close to paying off the hospital bills after this cruise.”

Derek was silent when she finished. He was silent for what felt like a minute but wasn’t longer than maybe five seconds. “I’ve been such an asshole to him.”

Erica snorted. “Derek, you’ve been an asshole to him since you met.”

Derek responded with a grunt, Erica launched into talking about something else, and he went back to finishing dinner, his thoughts focused on Stiles.

Stiles returned almost an hour later to finish the desert, and he stopped at the sight of a freshly made dinner plate on his counter, the plate filled up. Derek didn’t need to turn around to know that Stiles was surprised, but he missed the way Stiles smiled softly at his back.

Derek couldn’t have been gone for more than ten minutes - Erica had to sit down halfway through setting up for dinner, so Derek had gone to ask Kira for help - but when he returned there was a cupcake sitting on the middle of his messy counter.

He looked at it for a moment, then he looked over at where Stiles was cleaning, and he felt a smile tug at his lips.

Maybe the others had been right. Maybe he did have feelings for Stiles.

Shit.

*

Derek had spend 71 days at sea. It took him 71 days to wake up with a heavy heart and the urge to stay curled up under his blanket for the rest of the day.

Isaac had to ~~gently~~ drag him out of bed and force him to go to the kitchen to do his job. He offered to help, told him Erica and Boyd would help too, but Derek shook his head and got ready to start the day that already looked dark and horrible despite the sunny weather they would have once the sun rose.

When he passed Kira on the way to the kitchen, she offered him a soft smile and nothing else. He appreciated it, knew he would only had been grumpy and distant if she had tried to start their usual short morning conversation, and that would only make things awkward between them for the couple of weeks they still had left on the cruise.

Derek didn’t even look over at Stiles busy baking when he went into the kitchen. He just headed straight for his side and threw the apron on. Maybe if he buried himself in cooking for the whole day, he wouldn’t have to deal with his own mind.

But he knew his friends, and he knew Isaac had probably let Boyd and Erica know, so he knew Erica would definitely try to keep him busy to the best of her abilities.

Sometimes they weren’t that bad. Sometimes they were good.

Except Derek didn’t feel like being around people that day, didn’t feel like doing anything but keep himself distracted without having to focus on anyone. Cooking usually did that for him, had done ever since he started cooking with his mom.

It had especially helped him get through the grief of losing most of his family in a house fire all those years ago. Laura and Cora were all the family he had left. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were practically family as well now.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” Stiles’ voice pulled him back to reality.

Derek turned his head just enough to shoot Stiles a glance, but he didn’t bother responding, turning back to preparing breakfast for the cruise.

He heard Stiles snort behind him. “Alright, be grumpy. I prefer to work without your dumb ass interrupting me anyway.”

Stiles turned back around to continue baking, a silence falling over them. Except a room was never quiet for long when Stiles was in it, so that silence quickly disappeared again. Although it were a glorious five minutes of silence.

“You okay?” Stiles asked him carefully, concern obvious in his tone.

Derek responded with a quick nod, his back still turned to Stiles.

Stiles was silent for a moment, silent as in humming softly in thought. “Well, I for one can’t work in silence, so I’m gonna put some music on. And you don’t get to say a damn thing about any of it.”

As soon as he heard what song Stiles had decided to play, Derek wanted to say something, wanted to yell at him to change it.

Because _Bad Touch_ wasn’t exactly what he wanted to listen to.

Ever.

Derek stopped what he was doing and slowly turned to give Stiles a look, his brows heavy over his slightly narrowed eyes.

Stiles was biting his bottom lip, eyes on him, body moving in tact with the beat of the song, his brows wiggling. “ _You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals_ ,” he sang along, shuffling closer to Derek with a wide grin on his lips. “ _So let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel_!”

Derek watched him for a moment. Only for a moment, because then he huffed, shook his head, and turned back around to hide the smile that forced its way onto his lips. “You’re an idiot,” he told Stiles.

“An idiot with killer dance moves!” Stiles exclaimed over the music, his feet shuffling over the floor as he continued to dance.

When Erica came into the kitchen almost an hour later, Stiles was singing and dancing along to _Everybody_ by Backstreet Boys. She looked from Stiles to Derek, giving Derek a confused look and Derek just rolled his eyes. She snorted, catching Stiles’ attention.

But Stiles didn’t stop. He just pointed over at Erica and sang louder.

Stiles continued to fill the silence throughout the day. After the several music numbers, he turned to talking about everything and nothing, occasionally trying to get Derek to respond or join the conversation as well, but he didn’t push when Derek either didn’t respond or just responded with a grunt.

And Derek went to bed feeling better than when he had gotten dragged out of it.

*

“I think I like Stiles,” Derek admitted a few days later, his eyes glued to the opened book in his lap.

Erica immediately whipped her head around, her blond locks smacking Boyd in his face, but he didn’t seem to mind. “What did you just say?”

Derek took in a deep breath and huffed, pointedly looking at his book so he wouldn’t have to look at the people in the room. “I said,” he started slowly, swallowing as he shifted. “I like Stiles.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Erica shot up from Boyd’s lap and let out a cheer. “I knew it! I told you you liked him!” She high fived Isaac when he offered, her arms triumphantly held high. “And I knew this cruise would make you realize it!”

Boyd smiled, Isaac laughed, and Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re a genius,” he said dryly, finally closing his book.

“So.” Erica sat herself down on the other end of the bed where Derek had placed himself a few hours ago. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Derek shrugged, a sigh passing him. “I don’t know.”

“I think you should do a romantic gesture,” Isaac suggested from the floor where he was leaning against the closet. “A big one and confess your love to him. We’re on a cruise, so it’s perfect.”

Derek gave him a blank look. “I’m not going to do that. We’re not in a movie.”

“Or you could just tell him you like him,” Boyd suggested from the crappy chair in the corner.

“And embarrass myself when he says he doesn’t feel the same?” Derek scoffed, shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

The other three shared a look, then Erica turned to Derek and slapped his knee. “You’re an idiot if you think Stiles doesn’t like you back.”

“Do you know how often he says he hates me? It’s every day, Erica. He doesn’t like me.”

“Yeah, and you’ve always said you hated him too, and now you don’t. Why is it so hard to believe that he likes you back?”

“Because why would he?” Derek finally lifted his gaze from the book in his lap, lifted his gaze to Erica, his brows furrowed. “I’ve been nothing but an asshole to him, he has no reason to like me.”

Erica looked at him for a moment, then she sighed and moved over to sit down next to him, the space tight since the bed was small and he ended up pressed against the wall, Erica’s arm thrown over his shoulders. “Derek, you’re a great guy and you’ve got a lot to offer. I know Stiles can see that, because I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve been here for almost three months right along with you, and unlike you, I’m not blind and oblivious.”

Derek rolled his eyes, a small smile hinting at his lips, and Erica continued, hugging him tightly to her side. “You’re an awesome guy, Der, and Stiles likes you. Trust me, he does.” She paused for a moment, squeezing Derek. “And if he rejects you when you confess, because you’re going to do it, I will beat him up.”

Derek huffed a laugh and offered Erica a small smile. “Thanks.”

There were a few moments of silence while Derek accepted the half hug Erica offered, and then Isaac spoke up. “So, when are you going to tell him? The cruise is ending in a couple of weeks, so you better make it soon.”

Derek shrugged, a tired sigh escaping him. “I don’t know.”

*

It was a Wednesday, ten days before the cruise would end back in California, and Derek was determined that this was the day he was going to confess to Stiles.

He had told Isaac as such once Isaac had woken up, and Isaac had smiled and given him an encouraging pat on the back.

As he walked down the deck toward the kitchen, passing Kira with a quick nod, Derek tried to figure out what to say. It wasn’t like he hadn’t confessed his feelings before. No, he’d done it a couple of times. Once where it went great followed by tragedy, another where it went horribly.

He wasn’t scared of his feelings because he was scared of liking Stiles. Sure, he had been stubborn and refused to admit any and all feelings, but not anymore. He was scared of his feelings, because the last time he liked someone this much, it ended terribly, and he couldn’t relive that.

He just really couldn’t.

The determination to confess lasted up until the moment he set foot in the kitchen and saw Stiles kneading dough on his counter, sweat beading on his forehead.

And in that split second, determination was replaced with fear.

In the end, Derek didn’t confess. He chickened out. And when Isaac carefully came into the kitchen a little while later, he shot a confused look at Derek. Derek shrugged and shook his head, and Isaac looked disappointed but hid it with a quick smile.

Maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen yet.

*

There was a week left of the cruise. A week and every single person Derek knew on the ship had tried to encourage him to tell Stiles that he liked him. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were no surprised, but Kira sending him encouraging thumbs ups when they passed each other in the mornings had been.

He wasn’t going to do anything, had decided it wasn’t worth the potential heartbreak.

There was a week left of the cruise, and Derek was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen now that dinner was currently being eaten out in the hall, when the door was slammed open and Stiles stepped inside.

“I just had a very interesting conversation with Kira,” he said, crossing the line of duct tape to Derek’s side and stopping a few steps from him, eyes focused on him.

Derek paused wiping the counter and turned around, a brow raised. “Good for you,” he said after a moment.

“You know what she said?” Stiles stepped closer, just half a step, a grin growing on his lips. “She said that you like me. And not in a “I tolerate you” way. She said you like me in a “I wanna date you” way.”

Derek stopped breathing and froze. His bran short circuited, all thoughts coming to a halt. He should deny it. He should open his mouth and say Kira was lying. He should do that but he didn’t, couldn’t even open his mouth to let a single word out.

“You’re not denying it.” The grin had fallen off of Stiles’ face, surprise obvious on his face. “Oh my God, Derek, do you- do you like me?”

Derek clenched his jaw, dropped his gaze to the floor, and inhaled through his nose slowly, his chest rising as air filled his lungs. This would be a good time to just confess. To admit that yes, he wanted to date the guy he claimed to hate at the beginning of this cruise.

Or he could storm out of there and avoid the rejection and awkward tension for as long as possible.

Which was what he did.

Except he didn’t even make it to the door, before a hand wrapped around his wrist and kept him from going anywhere. “Don’t run away from me, Derek. Answer me, please. Do you like me?”

Derek dropped his head as he sighed, and slowly he turned around. The look in Stiles’ brown eyes was almost hopeful. With his heart pounding in his chest, nerves high, he nodded. “Yes.”

The silence was deafening, and Derek wanted to run out of there. He wanted to run, but Stiles’ grip around his wrist was tight, Stiles refusing to let go of him even though he tried to get him to.

And then Stiles stepped forward, raised a hand to the back of Derek’s neck, and leaned in for a kiss.

Derek’s eyes widened with surprise, Stiles’ lips soft but firm against his own. It was only when Stiles let go of his wrist to join his other hand, that Derek kissed him back, his eyes sliding closed as he leaned forward.

Stiles moaned softly into the kiss as Derek’s hands slid down along his back, coming to a rest at the curve just above his ass. “I like you too, you know,” he said against Derek’s lips.

“Yeah, I got that,” Derek whispered and let his tongue slide out as he leaned in for another kiss. Stiles returned in with no hesitation and a nearly pornographic moan.

They kissed for maybe another minute, maybe more, before Stiles pulled away and looked at Derek with a glint in his eyes. He stepped forward, gently pushing Derek backwards until his back hit one of the counters in the kitchen. Stiles moved in between his legs, pressing himself against him and leaning in to capture Derek’s lips with his own.

It was Derek’s turn to let out a moan, the sound rumbling in his chest, and he could feel a grin on Stiles’ lips. Stiles’ hands moved from the back of Derek’s neck to down his sides, and he rolled his hips, grinding teasingly against Derek.

Derek let out another moan, his mouth dropping open and breaking the kiss. Stiles didn’t waste a second before he dipped his head down and kissed at Derek’s neck, his hips teasingly rolling against Derek’s.

“We’re violating about ten different health codes right now,” Derek said, letting his head fall back to expose more of his neck for Stiles to kiss, his hips slowly rolling back against Stiles’.

Stiles hummed softly against Derek’s neck, his nose brushing against his stubbled jaw. “Wanna take this to my cabin?” he asked, coming up to face Derek and offering his lips a soft kiss. “I’m not sharing with anyone.”

Derek kissed him back, his pants already tight and he had been feeling Stiles growing hard against his thigh for the past several minutes. “Yeah,” he answered, moving a hand to grab Stiles’. “Lead the way.”

Stiles kissed him one final time, closed his hand around Derek’s, and then dragged him with him out of the kitchen and onto the deck.

*

Things didn’t change much after that. They still fought, still bickered to no end, and they still annoyed each other and occasionally threw stuff at each other, despite having been told several times they weren’t allowed to do that anymore.

What did change, however, was how they made up. Before, they never made up. Now, made up meant a lot of making out and inappropriate touching.

There had been one time where Stiles had slapped Derek’s ass with a handful of flour, leaving him with a hand print on his ass, that he didn’t realize he had until he walked out of the kitchen while the cruise goers had lunch, and Boyd let him know about it.

Derek had gone right back to Stiles’ room and yelled at him. But he quickly forgave him when Stiles unbuckled his pants and dropped to his knees.

There was also the time where Stiles, with his flour and dough covered hands, cornered Derek, cupped his crotch and nibbled teasingly at his earlobe. They didn’t get much further than that, because then Erica had walked in on them and told them to make out when they weren’t making food for the cruise goers.

One of the days before the end of the cruise, Derek had walked up behind Stiles while Stiles whisked together eggs, sugar, and various other things, his hands slipping under his apron to his crotch. Isaac had caught them immediately.

The duct tape got removed somewhere along the week, and they started sharing their space, things, and ingredients. Sometimes unwillingly which always led to teasing from one and yelling from the other, followed by kissing and either Isaac or Erica catching them in the act before kissing could turn to more.

It was the night before the ship reached back to California, and Derek was naked in Stiles’ bed, Stiles laying just as naked on top of him, head resting on his shoulder and fingers running through his chest hair.

“So the cruise ends tomorrow,” Stiles started, twirling a hair around the tip of his finger. Derek hummed in response, caressing Stiles’ back gently. “You wanna go on a date when we get back?” Stiles asked, tilting his head back to look at Derek.

Derek smiled softly and captured Stiles’ lips with his own in a quick but soft kiss. “I’d love to.”

Stiles smiled widely, moved to straddle Derek’s hips, and leaned down for another kiss. “Mm, you’re gonna have to pay though,” he said, their noses still touching even after he leaned back. “’Cause I have no money.”

Running his hands up Stiles’ thighs, Derek pecked his lips and looked him in the eyes. “I’ll pay for anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr](http://hoechlbutt.tumblr.com/), come cry about fictional characters with me!


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